Remnants
by TheSpanishInquisitor
Summary: Evil will never rest. Good will always be vigilant. They clashed in battle from the very beginning, and will do so until the end of everything. After each battle one group leaves the battlefield. Every battle has its victor and consequences. But what of the fallout, the ones left behind?


**Chapter 1: Shadows**

* * *

Dawn was newly breaking, a faint summer sun starting it's ascent over the forested horizon signaling the start of an early summer's day. A faint street light illuminated the single two buildings on a forest edge.

The motel never saw a lot of customers, save for the occasional visit by couples who wished as few prying eyes as possible. Most people only passed for a quick bite at the adjacent diner before continuing their journey.

The usual morning silence was disturbed as a large black truck turned onto the parking lot. Its rumbling engine coming to a halt as it parked in front of the diner.

The driver lazily got out, stepping down onto the concrete ground. Shaking his head he leaned back against the car, letting the cool morning breeze stroke his face before suppressing a massive yawn.

John Winchester was tired.

As he stretched himself out he looked around the mostly empty parking lot. Not counting his car there were only three other cars and a semi-truck parked in front of the motel next to the diner.

_Good_, he thought approvingly, the less prying eyes the better. He was in no mood for the weary looks he got most of the time.

Before heading to the entrance of the diner he made sure all of the necessary locks on the car were fast and secured. You never knew if someone got the idea to try and sniff around. At first glance you wouldn't see anything wrong with it, besides it being a car the size of a small house, but hidden compartments and cases contained enough armament to equip a small tank. If his car was ever routinely checked, he just had to hope he could find his fake FBI credentials as fast as possible.

Opening the door to the diner he headed inside. The place was empty save for an old German Shepherd, which only opened one lazy eye on his entrance, lying on a large cushion in the furthest corner. _Staff must be in the back_, John thought.

He seated himself in the corner near the window, making sure he could keep an eye on his truck.

As he looked around the place a dark haired face passed behind the kitchen counter. "I'll be with you in a moment sir, the chef on duty overslept again so I had to go and kick his lazy ass out of bed. He'll be here in a couple of minutes in case you'd like to eat something."

"No problem", John answered tiredly, "I'm in no hurry." He painfully squinted his eyes as the morning sunlight started to illuminate the diner.

He pulled another all-nighter, two nights in a row now, he seriously needed some sleep. _Your no good to anyone like this Winchester_, he mentally berated himself. Normally he'd take at least three hours of sleep at night when on a hunt, six if possible, but this time had been different.

He had been chasing a lead on the Yellow Eyed Demon, the one that took his wife and at the same time his life from him on that night more than twenty years ago. Since that night revenge on that monster was the only constant in his mind. So any information on it was too important to pass up, no matter what.

Those were moments in his life when all else ceased to matter. Some people called it stubbornness, others said he lost his mind on those moments even though they had no idea what was going on. Their opinions didn't matter John thought. Only the hunt mattered, only revenge. It was his hunt, and his alone.

Which is why he'd needed an excuse to send his son Dean away from him while he investigated the lead. The boy wasn't ready for the truth about the Demon, and by extension the truth about his brother Sam. No, better to keep it from them for as long as necessary or else things would get complicated fast. _It's for the better_, he convinced himself.

As he suppressed another yawn, a large slightly balding man came in to the diner, still buttoning up his shirt. Obviously dressing into clothes he'd been wearing for the past week.

"Finally Brian!, what on earth took you so long?," the waitresses voice sounded from the kitchen.

"Stop complaining Melissa," the elder man retorted, "it's not that we see a lot of customers anyway, so quit being such a hardass."

"Just get in here and start heating up the plate, while I go check on the customer." The girl shot back.

As Brian got into the kitchen John couldn't help himself but chuckle at their antics. _Almost like Dean and Sam a few years ago_, he thought a little sadly.

Finally the waitress came back out of the kitchen, skipping to his table. _Better get a bite to eat_, he thought. He'd probably feel a lot better with a full stomach. After which he could get a couple of hours of sleep before getting back on the road.

"Sorry for the delay sir, what'll it be?" the girl asked in a spunky voice. She was young, probably about 20 years old, slim, medium height, a shapely tanned face with dark hair pulled back in a high up pony tail and a bright smile. _Dean would have been all over her the second he stepped through the door,_ he thought with a small smile.

He looked over the menu. "No problem, and I'll have a portion of bacon and eggs with coffee, black please."

"Coming right up sir!" the girl said brightly. She was way too cheerful to be working at this hour of the morning in a cheap motel-diner like this. Slumping back against the bench he tiredly rubbed his face.

The lead on the Demon had turned out to be a wild goose chase. _Another false lead, another dead-end, good thing you're not wasting your time and on top of it, send Dean away for no good reason_, he accused himself sarcastically.

Finding a quick reason to send Dean away for a while, while he investigated the lead on the Demon, had been a stroke of good luck. Some hunters they knew needed some extra manpower to hunt a group of unusually aggressive werewolves just south of Portland, so they could use the extra help. He had told Dean he could join the hunt while he investigated a vampire rumor, a lie of course. But believable enough to be an easy but necessary job as far as Dean would be concerned.

But now that the lead had turned up nothing he would need something to do. Too much time sitting around doing nothing tended to turn a bottle of whiskey into a very inviting companion. _No, not again. You know what it does to you into_, he reminded himself sternly. But he still needed to do something for the next few days, maybe he could join the werewolf hunt?

_No, better not to contact Dean yet. If I call him only two days after we parted he'll immediately suspect something,_ he decided. Still, he knew he'd still need something to keep himself occupied for that time.

Pondering he turned back to the window. No that he thought about it some more, it had been really fortunate that he got the call for the werewolf hunt. It had been strangely difficult for him to find even a single case in California, were he and Dean had been when he got the false lead on the Demon.. It was as if evil had suddenly decided to take a break.

The waitress came back, interrupting his thoughts. Placing his order in front of him on the table. "Here you go sir, I'm sorry again for the delay. Will there be anything else?"

"No thanks, I'm fine", he answered absently.

"Alright then, enjoy your meal sir", she smilingly said. Before skipping back towards the counter.

_Way to cheerful_, he grumpily thought again before starting on his meal. But he couldn't suppress the small smile on his face.

Twenty minutes later he sat back in his seat with a contented sigh. _That hit the spot_, he approvingly thought.

"Can I have the bill please?" He asked, signaling the waitress. He really needed some sleep now.

"No problem sir, just give me 5 minutes and I'll be right over" she said, while flashing another bright, tireless smile, before heading into the storage area. "It should be illegal to be this cheerful at this ungodly hour John thought a little annoyed.

He looked out the window towards the few cars that were parked in front of the motel. Maybe after some sleep he could check the local police records for something out of the ordinary, if that wouldn't yield anything, he could try his luck in the city, Sacramento wasn't that far from here. _Why were there so few cases? There is definitely something strange going on. Evil doesn't take a statewide break. _He grimly thought.

First things first. What he needed most right now was a couple of hours of solid sleep to get himself going again. _Good thing this motel is in the ass end of nowhere, at least there won't be much to disturb me_, he thought.

And that is when he heard the girl scream.

* * *

In a reflex he got up, his eyes shot towards to door the girl had only just disappeared through. Angrily barking the dog in the corner rose up with a speed which belied his age, heading towards door. No doubt reacting to the girl's scream.

_You just had to say it, didn't you Winchester, _he mentally cursed himself while bolting to the counter. He took a small jump and swung his feet over the counter, quickly heading towards the door of the storage room. Beating the dog to it, he threw the door open.

Heading inside he flashed his eyes across the room. The storage room was lined with shelves , each on stacked to the brim with all size of crates and boxes basking in the faint greenish glow coming from an overhead emergency light. Across the room, at the end of a small path between the shelves he could make out the waitress sitting slumped against the wall. She wasn't moving…

The dog pushed itself passed him, heading towards the girl. Slowly John started heading towards her as well while carefully checking the spaces between the shelves. _There is something strange here._ After years of hunting he could feel it in his gut.

Suddenly the dog stopped dead in its tracks. Lightly lowering itself to the ground, its ears pinned back growling menacingly towards something John couldn't see. John stopped. _The dog must sense it as well. Something is definitely in here with us. _Carefully he continued towards the girl while slowly taking his hunting knife from inside his jacket. Sliding it from the sheath. _A knife in my hand and a bottle of holy water in my pocket. Here's to hoping for good odds._

Getting closer he could make out the girl's face. To his relieve he saw that she was still alive, but didn't do anything to acknowledge his or the dog's presence. She was slightly trembling, her eyes were wide open, tears sliding down her face. John knew that look, the girl was terrified. _But of what?_

As he got up to the girl, he turned his head in the direction of her gaze and immediately saw just what had made her scream. At the end of the line of shelves he saw a body, face down on the floor in a pool of blood. It was Brian, the cook.

John's face darkened. It was obvious the man was beyond any aid. His right arm was almost entirely torn from his body, a slight sliver of flesh was the only thing keeping it attached. Chunks of flesh, from just below his ear to his shoulder, were missing. _What the hell could have done that?_ He thought, narrowing his eyes. _It's a forested area, could be a Wendigo. But why and how would it sneak inside?_ He thought with a frown. More importantly, where was it now?_ Perhaps the girl entering the room spooked it somehow._

But first things first, he needed to get the girl to safety. He crouched beside the her, never taking his eyes of the surrounding room. "Hey, Melissa, was it?", he asked quietly. "It's going to be okay, but I need you to get up." She didn't answer, or gave any indication that she had heard him. "Melissa?" He gave her a nudge, which she didn't react to either. _Probably in shock_, he thought. _She's going nowhere on her own like this_. But he couldn't afford to carry her, not when the thing that mauled Brian could still nearby.

"Listens Melissa, I know your scared, but I need you to…" His words were cut off as the door suddenly and with a loud bang slammed shut, depriving the room of the ray of sunlight en leaving them with only the eerie green glow of the emergency light. Turning in the direction of the door the dog started barking and growling franticly. John flashed his eyes towards the door. There, he saw something sneaking towards them behind the shelves. Readying his knife in his right hand, John got up in a fighting stance. Whatever it was, it wouldn't get past him without a fight.

The thing rounded the corner, he couldn't make out its face but he could see it was somewhat humanoid in appearance, measuring the height of an average adult man. That didn't mean he would underestimate it. In a fight to the dead, underestimating your foe was a perfect way to get yourself killed.

As it got closer the dog began barking more and more franticly, almost fearfully. The creature stopped in it tracks and let out something between a growl and a hiss causing the dog to back away behind John giving a faint bark. _My hero_, John thought sardonically.

Now that the creature was closer John got better look at it. From a distance in the dark you would take it for an average man, tough one look at its face and hands was enough to disprove that assumption.

The creature looked like a pale, bald human with elf-like ears and a disturbingly pronounced brow ridge. Its eyes clear save for black slits, almost like a cat and a nose that was flat and bat-like. As it snarled at him it revealed a mouth with long sharpened teeth. Its five-fingered hands sported long sharp-looking nails, almost like claws. It clothes resembling little more than black leather, stitched together. It reminded John a little of a Wendigo, only smaller. _An offshoot mayby?_

There was no time to question what the thing was however, as it lunged towards John with a vicious growl crossing the two meters between them in a flash. Adrenaline overriding the need for sleep John stepped sideways to the right, the creatures claws missing his stomach by an inch. _The damn thing's fast! _John though alarmed. Going low he twisted driving his knife towards the creatures midsection, only to be caught by a hard kick against his stomach, sending him flying against a shelve dropping his knife with numerous boxes tumbling down around him. John barely stayed upright, only for the creature to lunge at him again. He quickly jumped to the side only to feel a sharp pain across his left shoulder causing him to tumble forwards on the floor with a grunt.

Between all the commotion the girl somehow got control of her senses again as John saw her dashing past him screaming franticly, ignoring both John him and the creature. The creature however didn't ignore her. With a growl he stepped past John, likely not intending to let easy prey escape.

As it passed him John did the only thing he could think off. He grabbed the creature's ankle and yanked it as hard as he could, causing it to stumble to the ground. With a vicious snarl it quickly turned towards him again. _Okay, you got its attention. What the hell was step two?_

The creature moved towards him with a snarl. At that moment the dog, overcoming its fear, jumped on the creature with a growl knocking it to the ground, biting at its throat. John quickly rolled between two boxes on the shelve next to him to get to the other side. As he got up he heard a painful whine from the other side of the shelf, the sounds of struggle silenced.

John jumped to his feet intending to sprint to the now open door, which the girl must have gotten open in her escape. But before he could move the creature rounded the corner, blocking his path. "Just how damn fast are you, you ugly bastard?" He asked, not really expecting it to answer. The thing just snarled at him, baring its sharp teeth. "Not the conversational type I see." Despite the seriousness of the situation he couldn't suppress a grin. _Getting a little low on options there Winchester. What to do now?_

His knife was somewhere across the room so that wasn't an option. Not that it would help much anyway. The creature was too fast and he suspected a knife wouldn't really hurt it anyway. Besides, trying to stab it would mean getting closer and that meant getting within reach of is kicks and punches. Which were ridiculous in itself. Since when did evil creatures possess seemingly martial arts training anyway?

Martial arts training or not, the thing packed quite a punch. He suspected his ribs were at least seriously bruised, if not cracked a little. _And that was just one kick_, he thought wearily. At that moment the creature jumped at him with unbelievable speed knocking him to the floor, he felt its sharp claws stinging in his chest. In reflex John reached inside his torn jacked and pulled out the bottle of holy water, smashing it hard against the creature's head shattering it and splashing the content over its face.

With a shriek the creature lurched back, clutching its sizzling face. Surprised by the apparent effect of the holy water John kicked out at the creature tossing it backwards against the shelves still clutching its face which seemed to burn under the effects of the holy water.

John jumped on his feet and started to run to the open door. He heard an angry growl behind him, the creature had apparently gotten over the initial shock. He started to run harder. Just a few more meters and he could lock it inside.

Only two meters now. John heard it hiss behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the creature jumping, sailing through the air towards him his claws and fangs bared. Doing the only thing he could, John let himself drop to the floor. Having no time anymore to correct his jump, the creature sailed over John, landing in front of him in an unceremonious heap. Right in the ray of sunlight.

In astonishment John watched as instantly the creature began sizzling, smoke rising from every inch of its body. As the creature shrieked in apparent pain, flames began rise from it as well, burning away skin muscle and clothes. The creature roared one last time trying to get away from the sunlight before it simply fall apart, leaving nothing but a pile of grey ash on the floor next to a dumbfounded John Winchester.

_Now I've seen it all_. He thought to himself in complete bewilderment.

* * *

Authors notes: This is one of my first tryouts to write fanfiction, but I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. You might notice English is not my native language, but I haven't had the chance yet to find a beta-reader. I'm still learing the ropes of writing but I have every intention of getting better. I apologize for any spelling or grammar faults.

Finally I think some if not most people will recognize the creature I introduced. Take a guess. It is my intention to get into crossover territory with this story.


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